Bad Brownies
by purplemud
Summary: There are plans and then there are plans. But if you're Nathan Scott, every time there is any sort planning involved, nothing ever goes right.
1. Chapter 1

**Bad Brownies **

By Grace (**purplemud**)

**Disclaimers**: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.

**Pairings**: Naley

**Summary**: Taylor's special brownie + Naley

**Spoilers**: Season 7

There are plans and then there are _plans_. But if you're Nathan Scott, every time there is any sort planning involved, nothing ever goes right. Take for example his very first attempt at trying to seduce Haley James.

Well, okay, technically, in a most roundabout way, that went well. In fact, it's about the only thing in his life that had gone perfectly in an unplanned way. All the rest are a series of mishaps and a long list of lapses in judgment. Most of them, admittedly, have something to do with trusting hoe bags such as Rachelle, the Psycho Nanny and the latest of that series of skanks, She Who Shall Remain Nameless.

Miraculously, Haley forgives him for all of his shortcomings. This is why Nathan is hell bent on making it up to her. In all the ways that he could.

So tonight, after the spending the weekend with his son (and being practically forced to man-bond with this Julian guy – Haley's idea, Brooke's term) he had dropped Jamie off at Skills, determined to spend some serious quality time with his wife.

Perfect, simple, no-fuss plan. Nothing could absolutely go wrong with letting Jamie spend the night with Skills and then surprising his wife when he pounces on her on their bed. Or maybe at the shower. Or the pool. All of those options can only lead to good things and in fact, by the time he entered their house, Nathan's already imagining the many things he'd like to do to her and with her, which involves mostly hot, married sex. He's also looking forward to just sitting with her and soaking in the calm, peaceful, blissful, happy married life. In no particular order, whichever comes first.

What he didn't count on is finding his usually sensible wife sitting Indian style on top of their kitchen counter, a mass of unruly after-sex bed hair crowning her head. Those luscious big sexy waves and seemingly innocent, and yet undeniably sexy, errant curls framing her face. This of course, for the record, never fails to turn him on.

Nathan takes in the delicious sight of her. His eyes hungrily roaming all over her outfit of choice: old boxer shorts (his) and itty bitty tank top. This also, for the record, never fails to turn him on.

Let's be honest, everything about his wife turns him on. He is so attuned to her that it takes Nathan a second to realize three things:

One, Haley isn't wearing a bra.

Two, she hasn't noticed his arrival yet.

And three, she's dangling a piece of chocolate brownie inches from her mouth.

This is even better than anything that he had ever imagined.

Leaning against the door frame, Nathan watches silently, feeling the all too familiar mix of amused-fondness and raging horniness that only Haley can inspire surging right through him. His feels his throat suddenly becoming bone dry as Haley pops a relatively huge piece of brownie inside her mouth. She tilts her head, exposing the soft white delicate line of her throat.

She's a sexy little thing, his Haley and Nathan can feel something stirring at the bottom of his stomach as his wife makes familiar mewling, satisfied noises. She starts chewing slowly, savoring the taste and then after pausing for a second, groans out loud, as though in ecstasy.

Nathan shivers in anticipation.

The first thing that goes to his mind is how perfectly things are turning out for tonight.

Well, okay, not exactly. That was the _second_ thing that went to his mind. The first thing was: my wife is so fucking sexy.

In hindsight, Nathan should have known. He is after all, Nathan Scott and he should have known that something is bound to happen that will ruin this moment. He should not have even dared to think that way – the things being perfect part, not his wife being so fucking hot, because if there's anyone who is allowed to think that way, it's him. Just him.

But going back to his second thought, his mind instantly flashes back on their senior prom many, many nights ago when he'd told Haley that they need to stop saying the Phrase That Shall Never Be Uttered Out Loud. Ever.

It's a preemptive, mocking little exclamation that the Scotts are not allowed to say or even think about.

Of course he forgets his own advice.

Smirking, he takes a step towards his wife and promptly trips on a baseball bat (what the fuck?). He inevitably falls down flat on his ass, hitting his head on the floor and right at that very instant, Nathan knows that tonight will not go as planned.

The last thing he hears is Haley's startled yell and then everything went black.

~tbc~

Author's note: Okay. That was short. The second chapter will be coming soon. I promise. I know I haven't been updating any of my other fics. And I hadn't been on line for such a long time. It's been a hectic year. So many changes and... life suddenly coming at ya... so there. I hope that this first chapter did not suck as much as I think that it did... but I promise this actually has a story. Sort of. I think. Thank you so much for reading this itty-bitty chapter. More to come soon. Well, 2 more chapters maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bad Brownies **

By Grace (**purplemud**)

**Disclaimers**: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.

**Pairings**: Naley

**Summary**: Taylor's special brownie + Naley

**Spoilers**: Season 7

Chapter 2

Nathan wakes up to warm fingers none too gently poking him on cheeks and on the chin. _Whathehell?_

His eyes flutter open and are immediately met by Haley's huge doe-like eyes. Intensely brown. She blinks at him and offers him a radiant smile.

"Hi."

Nathan can feel his lips stretching into a pleased grin. Ever since they had started dating, Nathan can't remember waking up and not seeing her eyes. Even when they were apart, it's still the first thing that comes to his mind when he wakes up.

He feels his lips curling further up as he greets her in a low voice, reaching up to tug at the ends of her hair, urging her lips closer and finally capturing it in a long, leisurely kiss. Visions of Haley eating a brownie flashes through his mind and he makes a satisfied groan as well, half tasting the rich chocolate flavors from inside Haley's mouth.

A small voice inside Nathan's head vaguely wonders why their bed feels like marble tiles but he ignores it and concentrates on kissing his sweet, sweet, highly addictive wife.

When Haley finally pulls away, giving him a lopsided smile, the voice inside Nathan's head starts back up, insisting that something is wrong. He drops his hand, trying to grab a pillow only to find his fingers coming into contact with something cold and smooth. Like marble tiles.

Frowning, Nathan pushes himself up, looking down. He realizes that it feels like marble tiles because that's exactly what they are. Pristine white, expensive marble tiles.

Had they had sex in the kitchen again? And damn it to hell, why couldn't he remember it? Nathan feels the first tugs of confusion as he glances around him; taking note of the messy kitchen (he's never seen the kitchen this messy, ever) and the half-eaten brownie lying on the table. It's then that he remembers his fantastic display of coordination – or rather lack thereof.

"Nate?"

He turns his attention back to Haley. Crouched beside him, looking strangely almost younger by ten years, Haley gives him an adorable pout, scrunching up her forehead, her eyebrows coming together, "why are you on the floor?"

Nathan is quick to notice the apparent lack of concern on his wife's voice. He frowns at her. "Why is there a baseball bat on the floor, Hales?" He asks back, his mind trying to work out exactly what is going on, because, first of all, he's never ever tripped on anything – well, maybe except for that one time when he had his jeans bunched up around his knees and Haley, wearing nothing but his old jersey was coyly curling her fingers at him, urging him to come closer, but other than that, there has never been any previous incidents of clumsiness. He is Nathan Scott after all.

And then there's Haley, who seems out of it. Sexy, but definitely out of it.

Concern laces through him as he sits up, leaning forward, noting the flushed tone of her skin. Not her normal, rosy blush. Something different. Nathan likes to think that he has cataloged every possible shade of red that has ever graced Haley's face: the gentle, slow blooming red-pink of her blush when she's embarrassed, tinted just a little bit darker when she's feeling horny or drunk; the deep scarlet, two bright spots on her cheeks, when she's mad about something; the glowing patches of red on the her sensitive skin after right after they'd made love. This shade of pale-white, weak-red, it's different. Nathan hasn't seen it before.

"You okay Hales?" He let his fingers graze her cheeks before cupping her chin and tilting her face up towards him.

Their eyes meet and it still catches Nathan by surprise, how fast his heart would race every time he looks into her eyes. It has never changed. He patiently waits for her answer, his fingers moving soothingly against her the line of her jaws, urging her to tell him whatever it is that's causing this… he can't quite explain it, but he knows that something is different with Haley.

Haley sheepishly smiles at him. "Sorry about the bat. That was me. I left it there." A look of recognition flickers through her eyes and finally, the look of worry flashes on her face. "Are you hurt?" She moves closer, almost straddling him, her hands going behind his head, fingers massaging against his scalp, tantalizingly brushing against his nape.

Nathan takes in a deep breath, unconsciously pulling her closer to him, their bodies almost but not quite touching. Nathan realizes that Haley is waiting for his answer and he wordlessly shakes his head no.

Her fingers trail delicious lines of fire as she moves her hands from his nape to his shoulder, staying there for a second, as though steadying herself, before dropping down to his chest, finally settling between them; one hand on top of his thigh, the other going up to her hair to twist a loose curl around a finger. She looks up at him, an almost childlike pout painted on her lips. "I forgot to take bring it back up upstairs, I was kind of worried that she'll be back."

"Who?" Nathan's brain has suddenly fogged up and he can't remember who they are talking about. Haley is moving her fingers over his jean-clad thigh, her nails grazing the material and he can feel it right through his bones.

"Scary old witch-hag." Haley tells him this in a small terrified voice, her brown eyes going almost impossibly bigger.

Now Nathan is confused. "Brooke's mom?" Although why Haley would need a baseball bat for Victoria is beyond him. Sure, she's scary as hell and since before junior year, he had done his best to avoid her. Brooke's mother makes his own mom look like a saint – one wearing inappropriate clothes, but a saint nonetheless. But Mrs. Davis can't be _that_ scary.

Haley makes a face and then suddenly bursts out laughing. Her laughter echoes all around them and she half falls over him. "Dude," She says through her laughter, "oh my God, you just called Brooke's mom a scary old witch-hag!"

Nathan stares down at her half-bent form, shoulders shaking from her laughter; he can feel his brows slamming together in a frown. He's been called many, many things by his wife and most of the time, they were terms of endearment, once in a while, when he's being his assy self, there's the occasional variations of jack, ass and hole but the last time she called him dude was… prom night.

Not a good sign, Nathan thinks, remembering how their prom ended. Although they had that wonderful moment at the café rooftop, it still wasn't the prom he had planned for her that night.

Nathan frowns and gives Haley a questioning look. "_Dude_?"

She gives him a crooked little smile, tilting her head, a gentle look passing her features. "Did you know that Lucas doesn't want me calling him that?"

Nathan is starting to lose track of their conversation, "Calling him what?"

"Dude."

Nathan is about to ask, what? but manages to shut his mouth. The last thing he needs is for him and Haley to start acting out that stupid scene from that movie with the missing car that Tim had loved so much when they were in middle school.

"I think I've hit my head a little too hard." Nathan mutters, standing up. He expected Haley to stand up with him, but there she is, still sitting on the floor, looking up at him with huge eyes.

Breathlessly, in a voice filled with awed-wonder, she tells him: "Wow, you're so tall."

Not only is Nathan starting to really worry; now he's also getting pretty annoyed. He remembered that Brooke had spent the night with Haley and Nathan immediately puts the blame on Julian's girlfriend for Haley's weirdness. Well, her more than usual weirdness.

This is just so typical of Brooke and her stupid Girls Night Out or Sleepover or whatever she wants to call it. All her sleepover causes nothing but trouble! The last time Brooke arranged a sleep over at his home (okay, back then it was just a one bedroom apartment, but still, it was his home) she ended up having sex on _his_ bed. With the bastard Felix.

In fact, that had been the _last _of Brooke Davis' Sleep Over at the Scotts. Until last night.

Nathan is officially banning her from the house. With a sigh, he bends down and wraps his arms around Haley's small waist, pulling her up with him. He takes a cautionary little whiff of her hair and then her skin. His mind tells him what he already knows: she does not smell like alcohol. He had known it beforehand, but he figured that a drunken night with Brooke would cause this totally baffling behavior from Haley.

Not alcohol. So maybe not Brooke.

It has to be her Crazy Sister Number 2, Quinn.

Nathan heaves a long, heavy sigh and frowning suddenly, he realizes that Haley may not have vodka breath, but she does smell strangely sweet.

Sweet but with a different scent to it. Kind of herbal-ly sweet?

Familiar sweet.

Nathan tries to think of what it might be, rattling his brains, his memories, but he couldn't put his mind to what the scent was. "Okay, what have you been doing while I was away?" He asks her, staring down at the top of her head.

"Missing you." Her answer comes muffled as Nathan feels her burrowing her face inside his chest.

Momentarily distracted, he couldn't help but smile. He tightens his hold on her, nuzzling his face against her neck. "I've missed you too."

Haley mumbles something incoherent into his shirt as he drops a series of little kisses all across the exposed skin of her neck. He makes small bites, smirking as Haley starts squirming inside his arms, making the most delicious little noises. He's about lift her up into his arms and bring her to their bedroom when his eyes suddenly falls on the baseball bat still innocently lying on the floor.

Frowning again, he gently pushes Haley away, keeping her at arm's length. "Where's Quinn?"

Haley looks a little dazed, her eyes staring at him, unfocused. She shakes her head. "At Clay's."

Nathan rolls his eyes at this. Strangely enough the mention of Quinn and Clay together is enough to effectively start a headache. "What? Why?"

Haley frowns at him. "I don't know!"

Nathan can feel his eyebrows rising at the sudden, jackknife-like switch of moods. Is it possible that maybe Haley is pregnant again? She hasn't acted this weird since she had been pregnant with Jamie.

She looks crossly at him. "Maybe it was something that her creepy old fortune teller told her. I don't know why Quinn believes her. _I_ don't believe her!" Her eyes suddenly turn watery at this, practically brimming with tears.

Nathan is instantly alarmed. Anything that could make Haley upset is bad news. "Hales, baby, what's wrong?"

Haley reaches up to tug at the collar of his shirt, her knuckles brushing against his Adam's apple. "_I_ didn't believe her." Haley squinches up her nose in distaste. "Scary old-witch hag."

Nathan shakes his head, trying to follow the conversation. "Who?"

"Quinn's fortune teller friend. Madam Zelda. Or Brumhilda. Or something. Quinn called her up last night to do some reading."

Nathan looks around. Haley would never let anyone come near the house in this state and from the half-opened Tupperware of what looked like left-over foods; it looked like they've been sitting there since yesterday morning. "Here?"

"Yep," Haley enthusiastically nods her head.

"Hales, you know better than to let strangers inside, especially when I'm not here to protect you."

Haley brightens up at this, her smile slowly blooming, widening. "Awww, that is _so_ sweet. You are _so_ sweet." She stands on her toes to kiss him on the mouth but misses her target, planting a sloppy kiss at the edge of Nathan's jaws. She teeters a little and Nathan is quick to steady her. "You don't have to worry. She's harmless. I'm sure, I mean, at least I think so." Haley stops, looking confused for a second. She waves her hand in the hair, as though dismissing something. "She's just creepy. And for some strange reason, she knows the scientific name to bunnies." Something flickers in her eyes and grinning up at him, Haley starts giggling. "Brooke is sooo bad. She...said...she said... cunni...cunni..."

Nathan shakes his head. He'd seen many of Haley's giggle fest, but there is something strange about the way her breath is practically hitching as she continues to laugh, her eyes actually tearing up. "Okay. Breathe, Hales."

Haley takes a deep breath, biting her lips trying to contain her laughter. It takes her a few seconds to sober up and when she did, she gives him a triumphant smile. "Oryctolagus cuniculus."

Nathan's headache intensifies. "What?"

"Chester." Haley answers in all seriousness, adding a curt nod of her head.

Nathan stares at his wife. Long and hard. She stares back at him, smiling sweetly. "Alright, that's it. I'm calling Quinn."

"She won't answer." Haley becomes quiet as soon as she said this, getting that pensive look on her face. She starts chewing on her lips which worries Nathan like nothing else.

"What is it baby?" He asks, leading her towards the counter, lifting her a little so she can sit in front of him. He places himself between her thighs, looking at her with concern.

"Am I being a bad sister?" Haley asks in a small, sad voice.

"What? Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Because I let Quinn go to Clay even if I think… no," she shakes her head, correcting herself, "even when I _know_ that she likes Clay."

"Quinn's a big girl. She knows what she's doing. You can't keep watch of her all the time. And no offense, but are all your sisters some kind of messed up?"

Haley pouts up at him. "Do you think its okay? That's she's with Clay now? I mean of course, not okay _okay_ since obviously she's going through this _thing_ with David. I just...it doesn't make Quinn a bad person, right? Because, look, she can't help it that Clay is sweet and charming and really, really, really hot. In a delicious, yummy kind of way."

Nathan starts shaking his head. Quinn and Clay are adults they should know… wait, what? Nathan clenches his jaws. He must've misheard his wife. "I'm sorry, what did you just said?"

"Clay. He's. Hot. Brooke thinks so too, but don't tell Julian, okay?"

Nathan takes a step back, feeling his patience slipping away from him. Who the fuck cares about Brooke and Julian? "You think Clay, _my_ sports agent and friend, and who, by the way, spends an ungodly amount of time in _our_ house, is hot?"

Haley does not look alarmed by the sudden outburst. In fact, she rolls her eyes at Nathan as though he's being a petulant child. "Peyton does too! At least the one time she saw him, right before she and Lucas left for Europe, do you remember? Well, she gave him that look. You know that, 'oh, wow, why did I not saw you before look,' which is harmless. Really."

Nathan keeps his mouth shut. This is unfucking believable.

"And, okay, fine, so we might have swooned and giggled about Clay for a like just a teensy-weensy bit." She narrows her eyes at him "You're not going to tell Lucas, are you? It's not like we, I mean, me Brooke and Peyton like _like _Clay. At least not that way."

Nathan crosses his arms against his chest. And in a cold voice, he asks Haley: "You _like_ Clay?"

Haley gives him a _Duh!_ look. "Of course I like Clay! Everybody likes Clay!"

Not true. Not everybody. Right now, Nathan doesn't particularly like Clay. In fact, he'd very much like to kick Clay's ass. Nathan will be happy to do it too. "What do you mean you _like _Clay?"

Haley stares at him and then throws up her hands in the air. "Oh my God, this in unbelievable. Nathan, are you being jealous?"

Nathan puffs out his chest, snorts loudly and emphatically shakes his head. "What, no! Of course not!"

Haley gives him a measuring look before sharply nodding her head. "Good. Because you know that's just silly. Even if we're married, I'm still allowed to have crushes!" The moment the word slips out of her mouth, Haley suddenly blushes – her true, blush – and she immediately clamps her hand on her mouth, her huge eyes looking up at him in startled surprise. "You are not going to tell Clay, right?" She asks in a low, suddenly shy voice.

Nathan glares at her. "Of course I'm not going to tell some guy that my wife has a crush on him."

"Shhhh! Jamie might hear you!" Haley frowns and then looking around, she looks at Nathan in confusion. "Where _is_ Jamie?"

"He's at Skills." Nathan grumbles. "You seriously think that Clay is hot? I mean, he doesn't even... he doesn't even have a _smirk_! Just that stupid smile on his stupid face."

"He so does have a _smirk_!" It's Haley's turn to cross her arms against her chest, glaring at Nathan. "And he doesn't have a stupid face. I think he has an incredibly sweet face."

Nathan looks at her sourly.

Haley ignores him. "Maybe I have a weird thing with guys whose name starts with the letter 'C'"

"Okay, now that just isn't funny anymore!"

Haley smiles at him. "Awww, babe, I swear, when you get all jealous like that, you're so cute."

Nathan chokes. "Cute?"

Haley happily nods her head in confirmation. "Uh-huh. Like Chase cute."

"You think Chase is cute?"

A flash of recognition lights up Haley's face. It's her Eureka Moment, as Lucas, the big dork, likes to call it. "See, Chase! Letter 'C'!"

Nathan gives Haley an incredulous look. Fucking hell. There is no trace of the letter 'C' on his name. Even Lucas has that stupid letter 'C'. Of course, there's Scott, but that doesn't fucking count. "Haley, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine! I've never felt so great... except… except, oh wow, I'm really thirsty. Oh my God, my throat is so dry. Parched. Like a desert. I just, I need to get some water. Stay there." She hops out off from the counter, heading towards the pitcher of water at the table.

Nathan watches his wife swallow mouthfuls of water. She drinks one finishes one glass and then another and then another.

Warning bells starts to sound inside Nathan's head. He cuts his stare at the counter where a batch of baked brownies innocently sat and Nathan suddenly remembers the sweet scent. From his freshman year. At a party: Taylor James and her infamous brownies.

No. It can't be. Haley James-Scott, class valedictorian, perfect mother, wonderful wife. She cannot be. It is impossible. He takes a step towards Haley, watching as she finishes off another glass. She looks up at him as he approaches.

"What?" She wipes her mouth with the insides of her wrist.

Nathan places both his hand on her shoulder and squarely looks at her in the face. "Haley, please tell me you aren't high."

~tbc~

Note: Oh wow, thanks so much for the wonderful reviews. I'm glad that you liked the first chapter and I hope this one does not disappoint. I got inspired by your reviews the next thing I know, I'm typing up and finishing the next part! This will be a short fic, kind of me trying my legs out. I hope I can pick up some of my fics and continue them. Crossing my fingers that I have enough free time these coming months. Again, much much thanks for the reviews. I appreciate it in a major, major way. *grins*


	3. Chapter 3

**Bad Brownies **

By Grace (**purplemud**)

**Disclaimers**: Me don't own. Standard disclaimers apply.

**Pairings**: Naley

**Summary**: Taylor's special brownie + Naley

**Spoilers**: Season 7

Chapter 3

"Please tell me you aren't high."

For a moment, Nathan couldn't comprehend the words coming out of his mouth as he addressed his wife. But there it is, Nathan Scott, asking Tree Hill High Class Valedictorian, role model to all, Haley James Scott, if she's indeed high.

Haley looks aghast for a moment and then totally flushed. She bits her lips, scrunches up her face. It took her a fraction of a second to shake off her shocked/guilty look. She smiles her adorable little smile, the one she knows that he can never say to. She looks up at him, batting her lashes.

"Oh, no don't give me that look." Nathan said, crossing his chest.

"What look?" She asks all innocence.

"_That _look." Nathan crosses his arms against his chest. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Actually I don't." Haley stubbornly stomps her feet, sticking her tongue out. This move practically confirms it all: Haley had ingested those evil brownies.

"Hales. No more cute faces. I'm serious." There's a warning tone in his voice, which high or not, his wife can easily sense. Nathan is surprised to realize that he had just used his Dad Tone on this is probably the only time it had ever happened. It feels weird, this sudden switching of roles and although a little part of him is somewhat enjoying this moment, on a whole, he's still pretty pissed at coming home to find his wife high as a freaking kite on a summer day. "Tell me exactly what happened here."

Haley starts to sober up and instead of the charming smile she's been generously giving him, she sends him a half-glare. Nathan tries to stand even taller as he looks down at his tiny wife. He isn't backing down. Oh, no. Not this time.

Haley's mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of the water. She starts making hand gestures, helplessly indicating the emptied plate of brownies and when he narrows his eyes at her, almost squinting like Lucas, Haley finally gives up. She takes a deep breath and just as Nathan had suspected, the first words out of her mouth were: "Quinn and Brooke… and the brownies…" Haley pauses, makes a face and lets out a curse. "Crap, I gotta pee." She quickly scampers away to the bathroom.

_Unbelievable! _Nathan wordlessly follows suit. Whoever got his wife high, heads are going to roll. He doesn't care if he'd just made friends with Julian or if Clay actually likes his sister in law. Quinn and Brooke: big, serious, trouble!

He could not believe that they had the nerve to bring illegal substance inside his home! And good God, does he not sound exactly like his mother when Deb had, years ago, asked him if he were smoking pot? Nathan hoped not.

And here's a little NBA trivia to all you Nathan Scott fans out there: he has never touched pot. Never. As a kid, he grew up with his dad sneering at anything that wasn't healthy. When Nathan was younger and life hadn't yet started to become the drama-suckfest of his high school years, Dan barely even touched alcohol. His dad made the drugs speech once, during dinner time, with Tim sitting next to him, saying everything was "dope" and "cool" and "uncool" and Dan slowly placed his fork down, looked at him straight in the eyes, making his point known.

Durgs were for losers. Potheads were the worst. Lowest of the low, slackers, the bunch of them. At this point, Dan had turned his eyes at Tim, pinning him with a glare. Don't screw up your athletic career with something as stupid as drugs.

That talk, like all the rest of Dan's many "talks" had stuck. He even threatened Tim that he'd sever all ties with him if Tim even took one puff of pot. He avoided people who smoked weed, heck, he avoided people who smoked. Period. He liked his lungs clean, thank you very much.

Who would've thought that in the years to come, he'll be chasing his wife down the corridor of their home, trying to get her to tell him who's responsible for, number one, baking those brownies and number 2, letting Haley eat them! Or at least the majority of them.

Nathan's about to knock on the door when his phone starts ringing. Annoyed, he takes it out of his pocket, glancing at the number flashing on the screen, "Not now Luke." Is his immediate greeting, not even waiting for a 'hi' from the other end of the line. "I think Haley might actually be high." He continues in one breath.

Static. Silence. And then, "Oh, yeah, that… I kinda know already."

This sends Nathan on edge. "What? And how the fuck is it that you know already?"

"She, ugh, called me earlier," Lucas sheepishly answers.

Too angry to speak, Nathan waits for the whole story, which Lucas promptly gives him, but not before clearing his throat, a sure sign that his older brother was regretting he'd ever called and worst, opened his big, fat mouth. "She was actually screaming at me the whole time. Like it's my fault. It's Taylor's "bad brownie" recipe (Nathan can practically see Lucas making air quotes) It's not like I grew them on my garden and handed it over to her sister. Besides, I can't stop Quinn and Taylor. You know how scary those two are."

Wow. Guilty much?

"Plus," Lucas continues, "Jim and Lydia know and they only gave Haley those brownies to mellow her out."

From somewhere inside the bathroom, Nathan hears Haley cursing as the sound of the toilet flushing echoes inside the room. "Let me just freshen up, babe!" Haley calls out, turning the faucet on. "Ah shoot!"

That sounds like bottles of perfume or lotion crashing on the sink. Mellow. Yeah, right. Lucas obviously does not know what the word "mellow out" means.

Lucas is still blathering away at the end of the line. "Anyway, it isn't like anyone forced her to eat all those brownies, all those years ago."

Nathan snaps his head up. "_All _those brownies? _All _those years ago?"

Lucas tries to calm him down, practically futile, really at this point in time, but this is Lucas' calling, taking a huge leap towards futility. "Relax Nate. Tay only baked them for Haley when she's stressing out over grades."

Nathan grits his teeth. "_What?_" That's like telling Nathan that Haley had been given Taylor's brownie all of her high school life!

Lucas clears his throat. "Tay and Quinn never gave her anything you know, like, lethal. How is she?" Nathan can hear Lucas coughing a little, "I think someone left her with a whole batch and she probably finished it off all by herself. She okay? The last time we talked she seemed okay. I mean, not normal okay…but, you know, _okay_."

Way to show some concern, Nathan thinks, wanting to bop Lucas in the head. His brother could have called him right after Haley had talked to him. But no. Lucas has to go and probably write the whole conversation between him and Haley for another novel! "No, my wife is not okay! Her own sisters gave her brownies laced with fucking weeds!"

There's another long pause and in a somewhat suspicious voice, Lucas asks him what the problem was, like it isn't obvious enough. "Did she say anything? She tends to get more ramble-y than usual. She doesn't mean half of what she says anyway."

Nathan can feel his eyebrows rising. "What are you talking about?"

"Aw, c'mmon Nate. I'm sure she said something that got you all twisted up. Because, be honest, if she hasn't, you would've found this extremely funny."

"You want to hear something funny, Lucas?" Nathan didn't wait for Lucas' reply. He went on ahead, his tone gleeful. "And Haley just told me this, apparently your wife, Peyton, she thinks my sports agent is hot. But you know, Haley's high right now, so who knows, maybe she doesn't mean what she said." Nathan ends the call there, ignoring Lucas sputtering over the line. He turns the phone off just as Haley emerged from the bathroom, looking miserable.

"Your wife's a pothead." She tells him, looking miserable. "Jamie's mom is a pothead." She makes a sad, pout, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm a bad mother!"

Nathan's quickly regretted having screamed at Lucas over the phone. He should have stepped away from the door and gave Lucas some more hell. "Baby, of course you aren't!" He takes her in his arms, hugging her close and dropping a quick kiss on top of her head.

She does smell like weed.

"Oh yes I am! High. Like a cloud. Blue. Oh, wait no, that's the sky." Haley clumsily, adorably, rubs her nose and her eyes.

Nathan sees the image in his head and this makes him chuckle. "Look, don't worry about it. It's not like you knew that you were eating Taylor's bad brownie. Right?"

Silence.

Nathan frowns and then looks at her, "Right, Hales?"

Haley is blanked face for a second before nodding her head in agreement. "Right. Of course." Haley winces, "I kind of did, but it so delicious! I couldn't stop! And I ate just that one piece…and I made sure that Quinn didn't have any more of that stuff around the house. You know, around Jamie, especially."

Nathan sighs. Lucas had the right idea. He'll move his family all the way to Europe. Away from the evil clutches of Brooke Davis and Haley's insane sisters. "Just promise me that you'll never eat anything that Taylor, or Quinn or Brooke made. Ever."

Haley soberly nods her head. "I promise. Cross my heart."

He lets out a relieved smile. "Always?"

"And forever."

"That's my girl. And I know that you didn't mean those things that you said about Clay and Chase."

Haley blinks up at him before smiling slowly, "Of course, babe. It was the brownies talking."

Nathan looks at her and for a second almost believes her, if it weren't for that playful twinkle on her eyes that gave her away. "Haley!"

His wife starts to giggle. "I did mean it, you know, about you being all cute when you get jealous."

Nathan gives her a pained look, stepping away.

"Oh come here you!" Haley grabs the edge of his shirt, pulling him closer. She wraps her arms around his waist, "Of course you are way, way hotter than Clay and way, way cuter than Chase. You know that."

Nathan isn't buying it. "Oh yeah?" He raises his eyebrows.

Hales looks up at him appraisingly, the same way she had done almost a lifetime ago, back in their old apartment when she had bought those party stuff for her Take Back The Party, party (only Haley James). "I married you didn't I?"

Nathan finds himself smiling. "Yes you did, Haley James."

"Scott. Haley-James Scott." She corrected him, her manner suddenly both coy and playful. Nathan remembers that Haley is still possibly coming down from her high and he warmly hugs her to him.

"C'mmon, Mrs. Scott, I think I can give Tim a call and ask him what's the best way to get you…un-high."

Haley smiles lazily up at him, her fingers cupping his jaw. "You're so sweet. You take good care of me."

"Of course. Now, c'mmon, I'll go prepare you a bath and clean up this mess." He glances at the kitchen as he starts leading her towards the stairs.

"Now, this is why I married you." Haley answers, her voice is sweet and thankful and totally normal Haley-like.

"Not for my abs and my smirk?" Nathan teases, briefly forgetting his plan. Maybe after a few hours when Haley's back to her normal self and when he's finished issuing a permanent, written, lawful binding documentation officially banning Brooke, Quinn and Taylor from his home. But first, he has to take care of his wife and later, he'll plan his revenge.

Assuming that is, if all goes well. After all, he's Nathan Scott. He's bound to forget that he's not supposed to plan things. He should leave all the planning to his wife. And with the way Haley is looking at him, he should ready himself with what his wife is planning _for_ him.

Haley tightens her hold on him and Nathan, on instinct, carries her up to their bedroom.

Already, Hale's plan is working.

Of course, Nathan does not realize this.

~end~

Author's note: Well, that was a stupid and lame ending. Haha. I didn't know how to end it. Anyway, this fic is for my friend Pam, who I had neglected to e-mail back. I am so very sorry. Will this fic be enough of an apology? I hope you all enjoyed this short fic. Its unbeta-ed yet… feel free to let me know what you think and the things I need to improve on. Much thanks for your time reading.


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